In the rest of this issue:

HOMELESSNESS

Profuse, sincere apology for lack of spare change not being accepted. Page 51

CONSUMERISM

Sony to release limited edition PS3 with crack cocaine super conductor. Page 63

WAR IN IRAQ

Is American public opinion on the War in Iraq so low that it is in danger of rolling back to 100% support? Page 97

MEDIA WATCH

Are we at risk of alienating criminal masterminds by focusing so much on patsies? Page 101

I didn't mean to mace you with rapist repellent - I was fumbling for a pen to give you my number!

Can you hear me? Are you alive? Does it feel like I plugged every hole in your body with habaneros and punched you in the face? It does? You're alive!

First off, I would like to apologize for spraying down every inch of the hallway in Roberson High School with anti-rape spray. I was actually looking for a pen in my Trapper Keeper - how embarrassing!

When you get out of the hospital, I'd like to start over again where we left off. Actually, let's start off a few minutes before the point when I hospitalized you and 45 other classmates with a near-lethal dose of the Dow Chemical Co.'s patented Fecal-Onion Nasal Inhibitor.

Please don't judge me by this one little mass-macing! I'm not a prude, I swear!

A long weekend of Driving School has me ready for Driving School Spring Break

To paraphrase Alice Cooper:

Driving School is out ... for summer!

Driving School is out ... forever!

Oh, I wish! These two days of weekend Driving School now being required by the Asheville Police Department seem like they are never going to end, dude!

"Speed, trajectory, control" - bla bla bla, already. I'm old enough to buy cigarettes this month, so I should be old enough to haul ass in my police car through the city I love.

You know how it goes in police officer Driving School - when you're not too busy propping your head up on the dashboard and pretending to be awake, you're daydreaming about running the instructor off the road and into a ditch.

I thought we would be learning new ramming techniques for use in everyday traffic stops but apparently we got some complaints or something. Look, it's like I said during my high school Senior Cruise last summer, "Let's get this party crunk!"

Of course, in this case, "party" represents a citizen's Toyota Prius and "crunk" stands for "suddenly inverted at high speeds."

As I was saying before, I wish they would teach you things in Driving School that you may actually one day use out in the real world.

Sure, safety and restraint sound nice on paper, but in reality, I do have flashing lights and sirens that I theoretically should use. Sort of like teaching math to a kid with a caluculator, you know? Whoa, gotta' go! I'll write you back after "Emergency Braking."

Booooring!

Ever the free spirit, I must go wherever the shifting winds of online porn may take me

James

What a wild ride these last few years have been. Starting from the beginning, I guess you could say I was raised on old-fashioned printed porn. Back then, I found myself discovering new and disturbing trends in then-contemporary pornography by examining with eagle-eyed attention the ads in the back of those old-timey hardcore fetish skin rags.

But nowadays, if you were to look at my "Internet history" on any given day, it'd be a real eye-opener. I can start off casting about for a little vanilla tranny five-some and end up looking at some pretty wild stuff. But hey, I'm just going along on this crazy ride we call lifelong addiction to pornography.

Between you and me, BBWs make me sick to my stomach mere seconds after self-induced climax. By the time I'm really checking out the folds and hidden mysteries of a naked, posing 400-pound woman, I can't even remember how I got there. Half the time, I start out looking at Web sites that feature skin-and-bone types who are a little (a lot) on the hirsute side and before I know it, out of nowhere, I'm chasing down a series of links that promises the finest in shaved fatties. But hardcore porn is my muse and I must follow her wherever she may lead me.

Why anyone would be interested in the changing-room habits of young ladies who have fallen behind on their rent is beyond me, but it seems I can't think of any other thing these days. Well, that's not totally true. Sometimes, I have to forcibly turn my attention to some really sick stuff just to get supersoaking lesbian grandmas out of my mind.

Each of us must push on into the great unknown that is forever one mouse-click away. Just because any two of us may start out together looking at the same free Web-cam site featuring Latino maids in no way guarantees that we will later end up on the same Japanese S&M/humiliation paid subscription service.

Listen, I'm not condoning any one particular way a person should resolve a grudge they have against a midget, but if someone else is into that, who am I to turn away in judgment? Should I cast stones when I as well live in a glass house where I can be watched 24/7 through the symbolic glass windows that are tinted on the inside so that I can't see all the horny strangers watching me at all hours of the day and night while I take requests and break taboos as they direct me via whispers through the proverbial glory hole in the metaphorical glass house wall of my gender-bending bedroom? The answer is "No way, Jose & friends."

In this life, friend, your nonstop, static fascination with water sports is just my prebreakfast jumping-off place to start my long, crazy, daily wind through the unpredictable world of free-spirited Internet porn surfing.